


A Twist of Fate

by makoyare



Series: The Eviternity of Magic [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Fix-It of Sorts, I'm blaming Dumbledore for a lot of things, I'm literally messing with everything, Mother Magic - Freeform, Politics, Pureblood Culture (Harry Potter), Pureblood Society (Harry Potter), very self indulgent au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-03
Updated: 2019-12-03
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:34:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21657628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/makoyare/pseuds/makoyare
Summary: “Even now, she speaks to me. It is not her voice but her will. I know what I must do, who my child will be. Magic is failing in Britannia. We have forced Mother away from Father, segregating his practices and magic is withering. Have you noticed... the influx of squibs? Everything is out of balance, and this child is to remedy that.”
Relationships: James Potter & Lily Evans, James Potter/Lily Evans, Lily Evans/omc
Series: The Eviternity of Magic [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1561375
Comments: 4
Kudos: 34





	A Twist of Fate

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everybody!
> 
> I've been writing this on and off for a couple months and its finally done!
> 
> I'm super excited to post my first fic to this site, so please be gentle with me!
> 
> This is basically a prequel to a much larger and all encompassing fic that I am in the process of writing.
> 
> I've been heavily inspired by Ellory, excentrykemuse, and Lomonaaeren!
> 
> If you notice something familiar, it might just be from them. Please go give their works a read!

The week had not been off to the best of starts for Heir James Charlus Potter. It should have been an exciting time, he had just graduated from Hogwarts after all and had landed a position as an Auror with the Ministry. After he finished his training of course. 

But when Mother Magic gives you good, she also must take away.

Now that he was officially an adult, his parents, Charlus and Dorea, sat their only son down in the family room, prepared for a long discussion.

“My son,” Charlus began with a deep breath and a knowing look sent to his wife. “Your mother and I know you have been enamored with that Lily girl for long now, but we must ask you if…” he trailed off. “Are you considering…” another pause as he fought the urge to fiddle with his cufflinks.

In what Charlus considered a miracle, Dorea took over, her voice sturdy and sure. “Are you going to marry Lily Evans?” 

James tried to withhold his grimace at the obvious lack of honorific. The lack of that one prefix just went to show just how his mother really felt regarding the girl he believed he loved. Things had been, not difficult, but slightly strained between the two of them as they graduated. The air was heavier with Lily’s obvious impatience for what James assumed to be a marriage proposal, but he wasn’t sure if he wanted to spend the rest of his life with the woman, and he didn’t understand why she was so anxious to marry. It wasn’t until their seventh year that she had relented and gone on a date with him. He wanted more time to be sure.

He knew it was slight prejudice on his part. James wanted to be absolutely certain that she would wish to remain in the Wixen World, rather than return home to the muggles. If his mother had presented him with a marriage date, he knew he would have fewer reservations as he did with Lily, knowing whoever his mother chose would be a Lady of the highest caliber and a pureblood to match. No risk of losing her to the muggles: to their unpredictability, their incivility towards ladies.

Dorea gazed at Mother’s gift to her, her cool grey eyes trained firmly on James, knowing he was deep in thought. She would do anything to protect her most precious, even if it meant asking the hard questions and making him think about his future, as much as he didn’t. Dorea was near infertile and as she and Charlus kept praying for a child, using conception potions and spells, they grew older. It wasn’t until one dark night that Charlus and Dorea sought out Mother’s guidance, sacrificing their most prized Abraxan, a purebred of much prestige. 

As the couple bent the knee, their palms clasped together, covered in the blood of the stallion a voice both booming and soft spoke to them in a melodious tone while the air seemed to crackle yet soften with raw power.

“Your heir will be born within the year, raise him well. His time will come.” 

The normally composed woman let out a sob and threw herself prostrate caring not for the blood seeping into her fine velvet robes.

“Thank you Mother, thank you.” She repeated, her slender hands clawing at the cool marble as she cried.

“Raise him well and he will be gifted as you have come to be. But heed this, his life will take from yours.”

Charlus bowed his head, his molten gold eyes firm under his furrowed brow. “Of course Mother, anything for our son. Thank you Mother.”

A gentle brush of warmth grazed their cheeks and the static that had filled the air retreated and as Charlus attempted to stand, he found his knees to be weak. He took a calming breath to steady himself and moved to help his wife up off the floor.

In his arms, Dorea looked up toward the painted frescoes upon the ceiling, and he followed to see the once image of a wild forest, misty and regal, slowly begin to change. From the middle working its way out, the composition changed to one of soft white clouds highlighted in pink and gold and peacocks strutting around a gentle grove of swaying orange blossoms. There was a great glittering lake, sparsely populated with lotus flowers and crested by a soft willow tree. But the magic didn’t stop there. It kept working, manipulating the dark woods of the ancient manor to one of pure white and gold, with Ionic columns, frescoes of the sea, and sheer drapes over large windows.

The couple stared at each other, wide-eyed at the transformation their manor took. They were pulled from each other's eyes by a soft pop.

“Excuse me my Lord, my Lady. Mistress Magic says she be making the manor more suitable for the future Potters.” Gracie’s slightly squeaky voice chirped before popping away.

The manor had looked the same since, with long forgotten family heirlooms finding new homes on display as opposed to within the Gringotts vault, and gold crested furniture reupholstering itself to match the new decor.

Of which they were sitting upon now, near eighteen years later.

James shuffled, and Dorea was drawn back to the decision her son had to make.

“I wish to confer with Mother Magic.” James said softly, looking at his hands in his lap. His parents had raised him with a great respect for the Mother as she had gifted him to them. He showed her as much reverie as he could, each night thanking her for her blessing of life as he knew his parents did.

Charlus let out a breath he did not remember holding before smiling at his son and wife.”I believe that would be a wonderful idea, Jamie.” 

“Sooner rather than later, dear. We don’t want this to go on longer than it has to.”

James let out a soft sigh at his mother’s words. She was right, of course, but that would mean doing it tonight and canceling the celebratory dinner he and Lily had planned. She was going to be difficult.

He was not looking forward to the fuss he knew she would make. James knew that Lily would be expecting a proposal, and while he believed to love this girl, he was beginning to find himself more and more dismayed by her brashness and lack of propriety. He would need to write to her at once.

Long gone was the smart and firey girl he once knew… this Lily was a stranger.

***

Lily Evans was a smart girl. A muggleborn didn’t become Headgirl without wit and knowledge, but she had to admit she owed many of her accomplishments to the Headmaster. Without Dumbledore guiding her and looking past the stuffy nonsense of pureblood wizarding society, she wouldn’t be in the position she was now: a prime candidate for a highly sought after Healing apprenticeship with an esteemed Healer from St. Mungos. 

When he first introduced the idea of marriage to Heir James Potter, she was unsure. They had been dating for only a year, and while pureblood couples moved rather quickly, Lily was hesitant to apply the same standard to her relationship with the boy she had loathed since their first year. She wanted to focus on her career and prove that she was more than her “dirty muggle blood.”

The more she thought about it and the more she conferred with Dumbledore, the more brilliant the idea sounded. Who else was perfect for her than the heir to an ancient pureblood house? Their marriage would gain her respect in her field, and as much as she loathed to admit, the British Wizarding Society did not favor her “unclean” blood. She knew too many stories of muggleborns unable to find a match or a job after graduation who had returned to the Muggle world without a second look back.

Lily knew she wasn’t going to be one of them.

Dumbledore made sure she knew she needed to secure James’ family name and respect if she were ever to make something of herself. Which was why she spent the last few weeks poking and prodding at her boyfriend to make a move. Surely it wouldn’t be frowned upon as they were in a time of war and James would be in a highly dangerous line of work?

She sat at the vanity in her childhood room, combing her hair so it would lay straight and presentable. She had a date with James tonight and she knew that this would be the moment he would propose. What better time was there than tonight? A celebratory dinner times two.

As her fire red hair slipped through her fingers like silk, she gave a self-satisfied smile to her reflection: tonight would change everything.

A soft tap at her window forced her to look away from her image and to the window, noticing James’ eagle owl Hermaeus with a note tied to his leg. Lily popped up and opened the window, untying the message from James and sat back down

_ Dear Lily, _

_ I’m afraid I must cancel tonight’s reservations as I have an urgent family matter to attend to. _

_ I’m sorry for everything, _

_ James Potter _

Lily dropped the note in anger, her brow furrowing trying to decipher the meaning behind these two lines. Nevermind the fact she was just ‘Lily’ and not ‘My Dearest Lilyflower’ as he usually penned in their letters. She had a nasty feeling swarm at the pit of her stomach as she read his apologies.

It was as if he was apologizing for something more.

Standing up once more, Lily dressed in her favorite set of emerald robes, stashing the letter and her wand within, and they swished behind her as she angrily left the house, ignoring her mother’s farewell. She had a Headmaster to talk to and she had no time for pleasantries. 

To her back her mother frowned, wondering what had happened to her bright smiling daughter.

After a swift apparation, Lily was storming into Dumbledore’s office and plopping herself down in one of his squashy armchairs in a huff.

“I don’t think James is planning on marrying me.” She ground out, looking up at the white haired wizard in front of her, caught with a teacup half to his mouth. 

Dumbledore chuckled softly, peering over his half-moon spectacles to look at the red haired witch. His machinations had increased the fire she held inside of her, consuming her and stifling her once keen ability to harness them. Lily Evans was a feisty girl that would do well as a battlefield healer, and it would take a saint to train her to be the wife of the Heir of Potter; but, he knew it would work out.

“My dear,” his voice as grandfatherly as he could make it. “Whatever gave you that idea?” He said as he placed his teacup down on his cluttered desk. James was smitten with the girl and with careful maneuvering, they could be married within the year.

With another youthful huff, she near threw a letter onto his desk, almost splashing into his teacup. Dumbledore sighed as he read the short missive, finding this revelation very troubling. He needed James to be willing to marry Lily so that he could have the Potter funds directly in his pocket to carry the war effort on it’s back. The Order of the Phoenix wouldn’t fund itself. Between paying for meals for fighters, medical supplies, and safe houses, the costs added up and was too much for Dumbledore to support himself. 

If they had any chance of fighting in this war, he needed to marry James and Lily immediately. 

Dumbledore stroked his beard as he thought, thinking of the ways he could get the young Potter to realize that he  _ himself  _ wanted to marry Lily. 

Realize. That was it, Albus Dumbledore knew exactly what to do.

“Miss Evans, I believe I have a solution for you. But first, would you care for some tea?”

***

James pulled at the high collar of his velvet robes for the umpteenth time that night, ignoring that each time it would spring back into place due to their ingrained magic. His nerves increased with every tick of the clock as it inched closer to his ritual time.

While he was no stranger to speaking to Mother Magic, he had never conducted his own formal ritual, instead preferring to speak to her at night as he lay in bed. This would be his first solo ritual, and while he had been present for the monthly rituals his parents had conducted, they were more of the social visit of rituals. One couldn’t simply invite Mother Magic over for tea. 

As he fidgeted once more, the clock rang midnight.

With a deep breath James entered the main ritual chamber of the Potter family, his shoulders squared with a confidence he most definitely was not feeling. He was unsure of just what exactly he was hoping for, but in his gut he knew it would be different. Mother had made it known she had plans for him.

James quickly fell into a rhythm, setting up large chunks of amethyst, topaz, and lapis lazuli upon the altar at the center of the large circular room before taking out his sacrifice of the snitch he had carried around during his time at Hogwarts. He had so many fond memories from school and every memory he had, this snitch was present. 

With a steadying breath, James began to incant the ancient words that were intrinsic to every Wixen, if they listened to the innate magic in the air. In a voice that rang with generations of Potters, James called forth Mother Magic.

On his knees in front of the altar, he could barely restrain himself from looking upon the idol of Mother, feeling as the air began to charge with static, yet he was warm, as if he was in a bubble of softness that kept the crackling magic away. 

“James Charlus Potter,” his eyes flashed to the idol, against his better judgement. “Look upon me, do not be afraid, my Childe.” Mother’s voice was loud, yet brushed his ears with a softness that was parallel to the volume. 

“I know what you wish to know, but ask, for this is your passage.”

From the ground, James lifted his head to look upon the normally still idol of Mother Magic. The alabaster stone shimmered as it came to life, the eight foot statue stepped forward off her pedestal and walked in almost a glide, her feet barely touching the stone floors before coming to rest directly in front of him. She bent to her knees and cupped his chin.

Had this ever happened in a ritual before? James was unsure, but as he gazed into the stone form of Mother Magic, he knew that this was meant to be. She was every Wixen’s Mother, whether they believed it or not, and he had an intense desire to never disappoint her. Much like his birth mother.

After another deep breath, James gathered himself. “Mother, I am uncertain of the path to follow. One leads me towards marriage… but I am unsure. I might love her, but she does not follow our ways and she is not the girl I fell in love with. The other, accepting the life I was born into, and following my father’s footsteps. I know eventually I must take up the mantel, but I don’t know if I am ready yet. I’m confused, and lost, and I don’t want to disappoint you.” 

Magic smiled, and lead him to his feet, walking him toward a couch she had appeared. Sitting down, Mother wrapped her arms around him, and began to stroke his hair. She had long craved to gift her children with the affection she felt for them, but few had been as devoted to her as James. He grieved for the sins of his youth, trying to atone for the mistakes he made out of childhood foolishness. But inside, James was one of her gifted and she could never not forgive him.

James was stunned as she continued her ministrations and he found himself relaxing into her embrace, just as mother had held him for many years. Seeking comfort in his mother’s arms was natural, and this was no different. 

“She is a cog in someone else’s machine. Her brain is foggy and compulsed and she will falter under the guidance of her unknowing Master. You were Given for a reason, James, and there is no one else more suited to this role. You have potential that I see blossoming and it shall not go to waste.” There was a deep sadness James recognized in Mother’s eyes, one he saw reflected in his own mothers as she secretly slipped out of the penseive, remembering her miscarriages. It was the loss of a child, and James was worried.

“Was I born to die, Mother? Please be honest.”

***

Lily was unsure of this course of action.

It was widely known that she was dating James Potter, Heir to the noble house of Potter. Was it really the best idea to go on a quite public date with another man? Yet here she was, dressed in plum robes, standing outside a small cafe at the corner of Horizont Alley. Dumbledore insisted this was for the best, and when word got out that Lily was seen with another Pureblood heir, James would jump at the chance to stake his claim on her.

But she was still weary. 

As she looked down at her robes to double check she looked presentable, she found another pair of shoes, black and polished to a high shine. 

Slowly her eyes trailed up to meet the deep sapphire eyes of Loren McLaggen.

“Miss Evans,” Loren began in his smooth voice. “I deeply apologize for keeping you waiting. Shall we go inside?”

Lily nodded and Loren offered his arm, leading them both into the upscale cafe. It was beautiful with stunning twinkling lights, purposefully overgrown greenery, and individual tables located far enough apart for private conversation.

He led her to a table on the far right side and pulled out her chair taking his seat after she had done so herself. It was all quite romantic. Lily couldn’t help but to think if this was how James would treat her when they were inevitably married.

“Imagine my surprise when I was contacted by you, the girl I was unwittingly enamored with who returned no affections.”

Lily looked at Loren, barley hiding her blush. It was no small secret that Lily had refused the advances of all the boys in her year, until she finally relented to James Potter. Loren and her had been partners on patrol as prefects starting their fifth year. They got along well and no student dare cross the path of the spitfire Lily Evans and the disapproving stare from Heir Loren McLaggen. They both had made a small name for themselves in their proficiency in Charms. Their nighttime patrols were made bearable through pleasant conversation over a much beloved subject. 

The fire that had seemed to rule her body and mind, the one that forced her to be cynical and demanding, suddenly extinguished as if Loren’s eyes were water.

“There’s nothing wrong with reacquainting with an old school friend, is there?”

Loren smirked, his eyebrows lifting sharply. “Is that what this is… Miss Evans? In different circumstances I’m sure this could look very badly on a certain someone we both know.” 

He was coy, Lily would give him that. And perceptive. He was a fine Ravenclaw and she guessed what they said was true: old habits die hard.

Loren was the only boy at Hogwarts she had barely tolerated flirting with her, and if she had flirted back was that such a crime? Her mind felt foggy and she found herself falling back into their old rhythm.

Loren graciously played mother, attending to the tea. That was something she was supposed to learn and Lily felt resentful. She loved her muggle family, even Petunia, but she felt as if there was a piece of her missing, as if a part of her magical heritage had been taken from her. She had read the books provided and she regretted not attending the extra classes offered to muggleborn students out of her own callus spite. 

“Loren, I must confess something. You know I have always fought against tradition.”

Something in her mind rebelled at the thought. Pushed against her decision to confess. This was not according to plan.

She took a deep breath, it was hard enough to admit a short coming to herself, but to announce it to another was one of the hardest things she was about to do. She had become prideful to the extreme, a stranger of rage unknown to her family and friends. Especially me, she thought, attempting to shake a heavy fog from her mind. She wrangled the part of her mind into submission and began again.

“I’m lost...I wish I could go back and change my decision. I want to learn about my place in this world and how to properly conduct myself. I… I don’t want to be a burden. And I’m scared of the future.”

Loren looked at her with wide eyes and she averted her gaze down to her teacup, attempting to hide her blush. He shocked her when he reached across the table to lay his hands on her’s, removing her hands from her teacup and holding them gently in his own.

There was something about Loren, something familiar and comfortable that she missed, that was lost in her relationship with James. She knew she was fond of Loren during their time at school, but her seventh year Dumbledore began to take a special interest in her and everything changed.

“Lily, I know this must be incredibly hard for you and I want to thank you for trusting me enough to be honest with me. And in return, I shall be open with you.”

Loren’s sapphire eyes shone with determination, his hands still clasped around her own, but they tightened in his anxiety. She was always able to read Loren the best among their peers, and she knew this was something big.

“Lily Evans, I love you.”

***

Mother hummed softly, resting her chin atop James’ head and wrapped her arms around him. James froze, his nerves no less soothed from her embrace. Different thoughts sped through his mind, his body frozen in fear. He was too young to die! His life was just starting, why would Mother take that away? 

Most wixen knew Mother loved all her creations, with her Gifted and Chosen just a smidgen more. That was to be expected as she had a direct hand in their conception. But to be so callously discarded was unfathomable, but James couldn’t help but assume the worst. Maybe she realized her mistake in his birth and was making the Wixen World a better place by removing him. What if he became something so horrendous she couldn’t have foreseen it previously and now she must rectify the situation before it went out of hand.

James didn’t realize he was starting to hyperventilate until Mother cooed and turned his head to allow her to look in his eyes. Her skin was an all encompassing warm umber with a smattering of light freckles that twinkled like stars against her rich face. Staring in her eyes was hypnotic, and relief flooded through his body, washing away his anxieties the longer he looked into her moonlight eyes that crinkled in the corners as she smiled at him. 

James was finally taking in the features of Mother Magic, and realized most idols and talismans never accounted for her voluminous and curly midnight hair that was free flowing to her hips. Nor her deep skin that echoed like the night sky. Perched atop her head was a circlet that looked to be made of stars that were reaching for the sky in which they belonged, restraining and framing a few curls around her face. She was clothed in a gown of a material akin to silk, but glimmered with a radiance of celestial origins. 

“Nothing so callous, my dear. You have a very important role to play. I must be genuine with you; your life was meant for something greater. You are to be the Father of my most Cherished, my childe of the Revolution. They will be sent to you with a purpose far greater than can be imagined.” Her eyes were alit with a soft glow, a serene smile upon her face. 

James could hardly stop himself from gaping like a fish. A father at age eighteen? He was barely out of Hogwarts and to have a child so soon? While it was not unheard of, James had hoped to avoid the trend that most purebloods of his station fell into. But it was his Mother’s will and desire, and who was he to fight the Goddess who gave him life? 

“What must I do, Mother? I must admit becoming a father was the last thing I imagined myself becoming at 18. An auror perhaps… but not a father.” 

Mother smiled softly and lead James to his feet, taking both of his hands within hers. He noticed her palms had no lines, her fingertips bare of any prints. He focused on the feeling of her smooth hands in his, her eyes radiating love and trust, and allowed himself to calm his thoughts. His insecurities of being a father at so young. This was Her decision. Her will.

“There is another favor I must ask of you, one far more serious than raising this childe of mine. I must know if you are aware of the plight your parents face, the decrease in their lifespans must have been shared with you?” 

James nodded his head. It was a conflicting situation. On one hand he was happy to be alive, and he knew his parents would do everything in their power for him. But on the other, he knew he was to lose his parents much sooner than their natural lifespan. 

“Regretfully, it is a stipulation of being Gifted with a child. Their life must be tethered to this world by their parents, else their bodies will never properly manifest.” Her eyes softened as she noticed James’ golden eyes relay his emotions.

“Do not be afraid, my childe. I will do everything in my power to protect you; however, this child will draw from your lifespan twofold as there is only you to act as anchor to this world.”

James panicked once again, jumping up out of his Mother’s embrace in fear. He knew it. He was born to this world only to die to further Mother’s agenda. But then again, what were all wixen but pawns in Mother’s game? He took a calming breath, soothed by the relaxing aura she emitted. Everything would be alright. She said it so. And Mother didn’t lie.

“It is hard to accept, but I will. Please guide me on what I must do for this child.” James knew that despite his freewill being ripped from him, he would love this child. He had always wanted to start a family and spoil his children rotten like he was. He would hang the moon and the stars for his child and let nothing stand in the way of their destiny.

Mother smiled fondly as she attempted to empathize with what her gifted was going through, yet she held no remorse. This was the best course of action, and she knew that James was the perfect candidate to be this child’s father. While yes, he was just barely an adult, she knew he would take this task and flourish. He was a lion waiting to pounce, ferocious and loyal, and would do anything for his child. 

“Tomorrow morning they will arrive. They are not yet fully formed and it is up to you to influence their growth. Treat their vessel with reverence and love, speak to your child, and on the dawn of Mabon they shall be born. Their life is in your hands now, guide their destiny as my Childe and help them achieve their purpose.”

James nodded thoughtfully and, sensing this visit was ending, he dropped to one knee, his closed fist rested on his heart that hammered in his chest. Mother smiled though he could not see it and caressed his cheek once more. As she turned to walk back to her dias, she spoke her words of farewell.

“Until we speak again, James Potter.”

And with that she returned to stone, her arms lifted above her head, reaching for the stars, her eyes soft. When the static in the air receded, James finally stood on shaky legs and deconstructed his ritual circle, cleaning up the room before returning to the main level of Potter Abbey.

He must tell his parents what he learned at once.

***

Lily gasped, tightening her grip on Loren’s hands. She knew people were staring at this point but she couldn’t bring herself to care. That was the plan wasn’t it? But now Lily was starting to break through the fog in her mind and she felt her emotions from sixth year rise up, a trickle, but they surfaced against the force in her mind. 

“I… I had no idea.” She stuttered out, her eyes looking for any hint of deception. This was big. Monumental. Her feelings, all of them buried, came rushing back in a flood, as if a dam had broken in her mind.

“I’ve been so blind, Loren, I’m so sorry. But I…” she trailed off, trying to gather her courage. “I think I love you too.”

Loren beamed brighter than the sun and she felt warm and comfortable. Like she was snuggled in a blanket in front of the Gryffindor fireplace. But one thing troubled the red head. If she had loved Loren like she knew she did then why did she accept James? It was as if the past year had been a blur, like she was acting automatically as everyone else controlled their lives. What had happened to her?

Leaving James, that was the right choice… for the both of them. While she didn’t love him romantically, she had grown attached to him. Perhaps, when this maelstrom blew over, they could be friends. 

“Would you like to accompany on a walk? We can catch up more, I apologize for bringing my feelings up so abruptly, but Lily Evans, I haven’t been able to get you off of my mind. Every day my parents ask about the future, and to be frank, I’ve only thought of you.”

Lily felt a rush of guilt, it was her fault, his pain. She wanted to spend her life making it up to him.

Wait. The rest of her life? This was too soon to be thinking of such things! She had so many things she had wanted to do and accomplish before settling down. The past year Dumbledore assured her she would be spending her life with James, and one meeting with Loren and her life had shifted drastically. Plans and ideas flitted through her mind before she could stop them. A private ceremony with all their closest friends and family, a beautiful baby boy with his sandy blonde hair and her green eyes with freckles, a daughter she could spoil and love the way she never was, growing old together sitting in a comfortable sitting room together by a crackling fire.

“I would love that.” 

***

Dorea hid her shock as James told her and Charlus of the ritual last night. James had rushed to tell them of what happened, waking them before dawn in a frenzy. A child. A grandchild. Mabon was less than two months away. So soon, and this shell, the womb of her grandchild, would develop according to the feelings of the family. She could hardly believe it.

Charlus, on the other hand, was having a hard time keeping his emotions in check. As usual, Dorea bemused, a slight quirk threatened to break her schooled mask. It was only right as a Daughter of Black to uphold herself in the most utmost of manners. Even after marrying into the lively Potter family once alight with cheerful dinners and fantastical parties of mirth; but, now near extinct. A blight cast upon them from a spiteful man who wished to have Dorea for himself took the entire extended family, leaving Charlus and Dorea frighteningly alone and Dorea, barren. James was the hope of the Potters, a miracle child, and his child now a blessing.

“A baby? Here? In the Manor?” Charlus excitedly bubbled. He stood from his seat and began frantically pacing, no longer languid from their early awakening. 

“Gracie, my dear.” She called out for her Lady’s maid elf. Dorea was fond of her, the elf had been a longtime companion since her days in the House of Black.

“Yes, Lady Dorea?” The elf in question popped at her knee. She was dressed in small raiment of black and white, neatly pressed. 

“Please alert Poppy that there shall be a baby born soon and to see to the arrangements of their nursery. Preferably near James’ quarters.”

“Of course, Lady Dorea!” Gracie squeaked in excitement. Of course, Dorea knew the elves were probably aware before she herself was, but gave the formal order as a way to acknowledge and inspire the elves. She knew Poppy, the Housekeeper, would make sure everything would be done.

Gracie popped away, making her way to the kitchens squealing. 

“Poppy, oh Poppy, a baby! Heir James is to be having a child!” She squeaked out, wringing her hands on her apron to keep from dancing in excitement. “Lady Dorea be telling Gracie to let Poppy know so she can make the proper arrangements! A nursery! Nears Heir James’ quarters!”

“Gracie, love, a breath!” Poppy exclaimed, deciphering the ecstatic elf’s ramblings. “We must be getting everything ready! Much to do, much to do!” She muttered to herself. “Missy, Nissy.” She called the two twin elves, housemaids under her watchful eye, who appeared ready for orders. Their demeanor would have been convincing if she had not seen them giggle behind their hands quickly.

“Dust out the nursery, open the curtains, and clean the carpets. I’ll have Wisker and Rhodey come in and help with the furniture.” Her tone gave room for no nonsense and the elves were ready to work. Whisker and Rhodey were footmen under the head butler Rowan. They were both dependable and well versed in the woodworking that had to be done to the furniture in the room. The crib was an antique, but knowing Mother Magic, there wouldn’t be much to get done.

Ever since Heir James was born, she had a mind of her own in this house.

Above the elves quarters, the Potters were still discussing the previous night’s events. James providing an in depth account that stunned Dorea.

“And then, Mother Magic told me…” James paused. “I will be the child’s only anchor to this world.” 

Dorea gasped and gripped Charlus’ hand as he tumbled onto the settee next to her. Her composure slipped from her iron grasp and her face fell. James would be forced into the same fate of his parents: to live a shorter life. He looked troubled although, his eyes glinted with resolve.

“Even now, she speaks to me. It is not her voice but her will. I know what I must do, who my child will be. Magic is failing in Britannia. We have forced Mother away from Father, segregating his practices and magic is withering. Have you noticed... the influx of squibs? Everything is out of balance, and this child is to remedy that.”

That was a lot to place on one child’s shoulders. But in unison, the family set their resolve. This child would not be alone, they would do everything in their power to make sure this child was successful.

“Changes must be made, not only within the public but within the Wizengamot as well. I will begin to reach out to the other Lords and Ladies who will lend an ear initially. I know the Abbots and the Longbottoms will listen. I must reach out to Theseus Nott as well, he owes me a favor.” Charlus began planning. There was a reason he was a revered Lord. Bipartisan in every nature of the word, he was able to make many powerful connections to families across the political spectrum. 

“I’ll be contacting Lord Black as well. Cousin Orion and I write every now and then. You know how dreadful his wife is. It really is a shame Sirius left, dear.” Dorea directed to both Charlus and James.

James was shocked. His mother didn’t agree with Sirius leaving home? She had allowed him to stay all this time...he had lived at the Abbey after he had absconded Grimmauld Place. Sirius recently got an apartment in Muggle London with Remus, that was the only real reason he left.

“Don’t show your emotions so freely, my love. The family holds many secrets close to their chest: the true allegiance of Lord Black being one of them. I had hoped that he would reveal his intentions toward his Heir sooner; but, unfortunately, it seems that wretch Walburga is digging her claws in deeper.” Dorea tilted her head slightly. She loved her cousin dearly and he was a formidable Lord Black: if only his fate hadn’t been so ironclad due to that damnable marriage contract. With her own niece. She repressed a shudder. 

“Should...should I write him? Sirius, I mean.” James was sure that would be best. He couldn’t keep secrets from his best friend, plus, if what his mother said is true, then Sirius wouldn’t have been disowned. It would be important in the future to have the future Lord Black at his side.

“Have him come for tea, this will be too much for a letter.” Charlus injected. He would be making many floo calls and there would be a flurry of activity in the Abbey. He was right. The absolute political upheaval that they would be facing would have to be treated delicately. Charlus looked over at his wife, forever grateful to have her by his side and even more so now. Dorea crinkled her eyes in the way he loved, the closest to an expression that would be found on her perfect mask.

Watching his parents interact, James smiled fondly. They had an easy relationship that came from years of devotion and James couldn’t help but compare his relationship with Lily. Something had changed in the girl he had been enamored with for years. Gone was her sweet yet stubborn disposition, replaced by arrogance and aggression. He huffed in an almost petulant manner, frustrated and his huff quickly turned to a yawn. He really needed some sleep. He had been up for almost 24 hours, and his adrenaline had finally worn off. His bed was calling him, everything would become clearer after a few hours of sleep.

Dorea placed her hand on her husband’s arm. “I think it's time we all head to bed, darling.” She subtly nodded her head towards where their son was steadily nodding off.

“Of course, dear. We can continue this conversation at a more reasonable time.”

As Albus Dumbledore slept, a small silver device housed on a cluttered shelf and nestled amongst dozens of other such devices began whirling, small puffs of smoke billowing out from it’s top.

***

“May I write to you?” Loren asked, his eyes hopeful as he stared at the redhead of his dreams. Lily flushed a bright red and he found it to be the most endearing blush he had ever seen.

Lily smiled as they stood on her front porch, her hand in his. She was beginning to realize what a tactile person he was, skirting just at the edge of propriety. She found it exhilarating. The complete opposite of James, holding her at arm's length.

“Of course, I’d be disappointed if you didn’t.” She responded coyly, her act ruined by the blush still lighting her face. 

He smiled, kissing her hand. “I eagerly await, Miss Evans.” And turned, apparating with a soft  _ pop.  _

With her thoughts full of Loren, Lily was able to sweep away the heavy fog within her mind. She bound into the house, and smiled at her mum.

“Good day, dearie?” Rose Evans chirped from in front of the stove. It seemed, at least for now, her daughter was back: cheerful and vibrant. She had missed her despite living in the same house for almost a year.

“Even better than I thought it would be. I have to write a couple letters but then I’ll be down for dinner!” Lily called over her shoulder, already half up the stairs, bounding two at a time similarly to the way she did as a child. 

Rose smiled to herself, returning to making dinner. She’d better make a pudding to celebrate.

Upstairs, Lily was sat at her childhood desk, her stylus in her hand, gripping the dogwood inlay with tremendous strength. 

“You can do this, Evans. You were Head Girl, top of your year, and offered a position with the Department of Mysteries. You’re a mudblood who won’t back down.” She muttered to herself, grumbling as she worked up the nerve to begin her letter to James.

“Ok, let’s do this.”

After a very intense letter writing session filled with hair pulling, a multitude of drafts fluttered across her desk and floor, and a case of near tears, she was finished. Two shiny letters. One to James, asking to meet up, and one to Loren which was much easier to write. With both letters written, Lily flung open the sash on her window and softly called for her owl, Parsley. 

An eleven year old Lily thought the name was quite humorous.

“This is the most important one,” she told her companion who let out a soft  _ hoot _ in understanding. “Take this one to James as soon as possible. It’s urgent.” 

Parsley took the letter in her beak and launched out the window and into the night, taking with her Lily’s hopes.

She couldn’t stand to hole herself away within her own anxieties as she waited for James’ response so Lily took herself downstairs to help her mum with the cooking, trying and failing to put the letter out of mind.

***

Deep in the Vale, Potter Abbey should have been awake at this time; however, as if the inhabitants forgot they should be awake at this hour, each were still peacefully asleep.

That is until a sharp crack woke Heir James up with a fright.

“Heir Jamie, I have an urgent post from your Lily flower.” 

He groaned, shoving his head under his pillows as the house elf, Artie, began opening the curtains letting early afternoon light into the once dark bedroom.

“Up, up, up! You have very big day today Heir Jamie! Gracie be already waking Master and Mistress! Oh we’re all so very excited!” Artie seemed to dance around as he spoke, continuing with his chores with the energy of a strong  _ avis. _

His pillow seemed to vanish and his uncovered eyes stung with the brightness of the day.

“Okay, okay. Thank you, Artie. I’m awake now.” James groaned as he sat up, and shoved his feet into his slippers. The house elf bowed and  _ popped  _ away. 

Artie was right: it was a busy day. He had to answer the letter from Lily, meet with Sirius, sit in with his father during his contacts with various allies, and that wasn’t even covering the fact that his child would be arriving today. By Merlin, his  _ child _ .

James ran a heavy hand over his eyes before forcing himself into the bathroom for his morning ablutions. 

Fresh faced, wide eyed, and dressed, he turned to the letter from Lily. It wasn’t that he was dreading it, per say. Just that he was… well dreading it. His previous letter had been curt and he had no way to know how this Lily would take it. He flung himself with little decorum into his favorite armchair in his sitting room and peaked at the letter.

_ James, _

_ I can’t say that I understand the implications of your previous letter; however, I believe it would be best to discuss the realities of our relationship in person. I wish to see you as soon as possible and in private, there is information most troubling I have discovered regarding a mutual acquaintance. I can’t imagine the spell fire that should occur should this information become public at this time. _

_ I have met with an old friend who helped me realize what had been going on, and I’m afraid you have been purposefully fooled. _

_ If you do not reply by noon, I shall be calling at half past. _

_ Lily _

James scrambled upright, checking his pocket watch. His eyes widened.

“Artie!” 

The elf popped into the room and after a curt bow he spoke. “Heir James, a Miss Lily Evans here for you. I have lead her into the blue room.” Another bow and he left.

James stood, straightened his robes and quickly made his way to the blue room. Said room was a less formal sitting room on the second floor of the Abbey where guests of a more personal nature were received. Due to their distancing after Hogwarts, Lily would remain a guest of the blue room rather than the more familiar receiving room within his personal wing. 

Lily was sat on an indigo settee, wringing her hands in her lap.

“James!” She exclaimed rushing forward. “I was so worried when you hadn’t responded. I’m sorry for calling but this is more than I could handle and you deserve to know.”

He placed his hands on either of her shoulders in shock. He hadn’t heard her speak so earnestly in over a year. He blinked. Had there really been that much of a difference between sixth and seventh year that it took until now for him to realize?

“It’s alright, I’m glad you came. Today is tight but this is important. Why don’t you start from the beginning.” 

***

Dorea checked her hair in the mirror adjacent to their public floo, lightly patting it back into place before straightening her dark blue robes. As always her shoulders were back and her head held high. Today she would be visiting Cousin Orion. 

She braced herself, slamming her occlumency shields in place and hiding behind her facade of aloofness. She would need every weapon of propriety in her arsenal to prepare for her encounter with Walburga. Oh how she loathed her niece and everything she took away from Orion. And her darling Sirius. Her nephew was too much like his father, yet because of his mother’s meddling he had no idea. He was unaware of just how loved he was in this world.

One day, Dorea would make her pay. Possibly today, if things went her way.

Stepping into the floo, she calmly spoke “Number 12 Grimmuald Place” and allowed the fire to whisk her away. With an unsettling grace she step forward out onto the other side.

The difference between the two seats was innumerable. Where Potter Abbey was light, airy, and open, Grimmuald was dark, stuffy, and oppressive. Even before Mother had changed the Abbey from its rich hues of brown wood and emerald and sapphire, the Potter home was more comfortable than this wreck of a house.

No doubt Walburga’s influence, she sniffed, noticing the house elf heads lining the wall. A truly intolerable woman indeed.

Kreature, the head elf, greeted her as she exited the floo parlour.

“Lady Potter, you’ve chosen a bad bad time to visit.” Kreature spoke, his knobby body dropping into a crunching bow, his joints popping. Walburga was a disgrace. 

“I’m afraid I will make it worse. I’m here to see Orion as quickly as…” Dorea was cut off by a loud screech.

“Kreature! You damnable elf, where is my tea?” 

The lady of the hour, Dorea thought nastily. Walburga came bounding into sight, her wand raised high, not noticing Dorea standing in the hall. 

“I suggest you lower your wand, dear niece. It’s unbecoming to welcome guests in such a way.”

Walburga may have been one of the most imminent Ladies in society, being Lady Black, but in her surprise she curtsied deeply to Dorea. She grinned haughtily in response. 

“Good to know your place. You may be Lady Black in name but never in respect.”

Walburga sputtered, her face turning an unbecoming ruddy color. “Now see here, Aunt” she started, putting her wand away. Dorea raised an eyebrow in response.

“Walburga, what are you doing?” Orion asked, entering the room. 

In their encounter, Dorea and Walburga had missed Kreature fetching his true master, Lord Orion Black, Duke of Ravensmoor. 

Walburga started but was interrupted again.

“Dearest Aunt Dorea, to what do we owe this pleasure?” After a slight curtsy, Dorea folded Orion into her arms. Despite being a grown man of forty, Orion melted into the only mother figure he had left in his life. 

“I’m here to see my favorite cousin, is that such a crime?” She pulled away, caressing his cheek as she stared into the man she considered a son’s eyes.

Walburga harrumphed, sulking behind the two, her eyes alight with anger. She was tired of being ignored. Even after marrying into the main line, everyone in the family still treated her with the contempt of a daughter from the side branch. She was supposed to be important. She was supposed to be  _ somebody _ . But here she was, as alone and bitter as always.

Orion offered Dorea his arm as they left to speak in his private office 

Walburga was left behind, as always.

***

James ran his fingers through his hair, closing his eyes tight to fight off the pending headache. This was  _ a lot  _ of information. 

“Let me get this all straight. You think Dumbledore has been compulsing you, and who knows who else, forcing you into a relationship with me. Heir Loren McLaggen helped you rediscover your affections for him, and you’re breaking up with me?”

“...Yes.”

James paced around the parlour before falling into one of the armchairs. He couldn’t say he was completely fine with this. To be used in this way. To be forced to accept the inevitable. He had been in love with Lily Evans for the past seven years. And when she finally relented and agreed to give him a chance, it was all fabricated. Their relationship was a lie.

He was blisteringly angry. James was furious. Not with Lily. She was just as much a victim in this whole situation. Just as he was. To have your will stifled and ripped away from you was criminal. Not even counting she had been a minor when all this started. Who else had been compulsed. Who else was carrying this weight with them.

He couldn’t let this stand.

Maybe this was what Mother spoke of. Dumbledore was obviously a problem here, twisting and ruining people’s lives. The Paragon of Light. Ha, what a joke! 

“Okay.”

“What? Just okay? I’ve just told you I’ve been mentally violated and you respond with ‘okay’?”

“Obviously this isn’t okay. I’m worried about you and I think you should make a visit to Saint Mungos. See a mind healer. But I mean ‘okay’ in the sense that we’ll deal with this.  _ I’ll  _ deal with this. Dumbledore’s been in power far too long and we don’t even know how many people he’s hurt in a similar way.”

“Oh. Well, I’m sorry this has happened. If that means anything to you. I never meant to hurt you in this way and I can’t help but feel awful.”

“Don’t. Please don’t blame yourself. This is entirely Dumbledore’s fault. I’ll send you our solicitor, if Heir McLaggen hasn’t already offered. I can’t let this man stay in power. I’m going to be a father.”

Lily gasped. A father? At eighteen? Had he been seeing another woman? No. The Potter family prided themselves on honor and fidelity, James would never do that. But… how else would he become a father?

“A father?” She asked, hoping for some explanation. 

“Mother Magic is gifting me a child. Her Most Cherished. They need to be safe. I… I can’t lose her. Them.”

Another gasp. Lily’s lungs were getting tired of all this gasping she was doing today. 

Well at least she knew now what was happening. She was familiar with the Olde Ways, serving the “Mother” and communing with her. It was terribly illegal, but Lily had always thought that was a little ridiculous. Outlawing a sacred religion? At least, she thought it was just a religion. James spoke about “Mother Magic” as if she were a real tangible being. Was this something, once again, that everybody but her knew about?

“I don’t know if you’re familiar, but Mother is the one who gave us magic. She gave us life. Her and Father Chaos. Almost every old family communes with Mother in some way or form, and very few families do so with Father. It's unspoken because of the mess the Ministry has been making for the past couple of decades.” James spoke, as if plucking her thoughts straight from her head.

She never knew just how familiar James was with her.

“I just want to say,” James rubbed the back of his neck, looking down at the plush carpet at his feet. “I’m glad you’re happy. Heir Loren is a good man, and if… if he makes you happy, then I’m happy. I can’t say it's going to be easy, but I want you to know, there’s no hard feelings. It hurts, yes, but it hurts more knowing you were forced into this relationship.”

James sighed and stood up, rolling his shoulders back, and offered her his hand. Lily took it and he helped her to her feet. “I swear that you will be safe. Heir Loren and I won’t let you get hurt again. This I swear.” 

Lily felt a surge of magic flow from James and encircle her own. She shivered. 

Did he just…

A low whistle from the doorway. “That was a Potter Vow, you sure are serious, huh?” 

“No, mate, that’d be you.”

Sirius Black let out a barking laugh and walked over to James, swinging an arm around his shoulder. James answered with a wry smile. 

“Actually, since you’re both here, I wanted to ask you something.”

***

Missy and Nissy tittered between themselves as they cleaned the solarium. Lord and Lady Potter were out, holding meetings and planning for the child who was arriving soon. Heir James was in the blue room with Miss Lily and Master Blacck, and the rest of the elves were setting up the nursery or, like the twins, continuing on with their daily chores.

The Abbey wasn’t going to run itself.

As they cleaned the white wrought iron of the windows and polished the large grand piano, Missy noticed an indistinct shimmer in the air. Gold and silver swirling together toward the middle of the room before bursting outward. There was the whisper of a lullabye on the air before everything went still. 

Where the Mother touched was a large clamshell resting on a gold embroidered pillow of pure white silk. The pearlescent sheen on the shell caught in the midday sunlight and shone a faint pink, mesmerizing the small elf and catching the attention of her sister who nearly dropped her duster.

Wide eyes caught the other’s and they immediately popped out of the newly occupied solarium.

Gracie was the first to notice the two oddly silent elves. Missy and Nissy were always giggling and whispering to each other, knowing the intimate details of every man, woman, child, and elf who stepped foot within the Abbey. She made her way over to the two and as she took her first step, Missy squealed. 

On queue, Nissy began as well, their cacophony catching the attention of every elf in the house, immediately rushing into the room. 

“Gracie!! That baby! It’s here, in the solarium!” With that one declaration, each of the elves crowded in the kitchen immediately popped to said solarium.

Poppy; however, wasn’t the head elf for nothing.

“I believe it is time to mend the bridge, Lady and Gentlemen. For too long we have been divided and I honestly cannot see any benefit in sight. Can you? There may be a war, but we do not have to falter. Our people need us now more than ever. Lord Nott, how are your hundreds doing? Last I heard the Ignomium Hundred was struggling to feed its people. And Lord Longbottom, your son is to be wed soon. Is your grandchild to suffer for our sins? Change needs to start soon, and peace is within our…” Lord Charlus Potter was startled out of his speech by the sudden appearance of Poppy.

He was meeting with various Lords and Lady Bones, attempting to convince them of compromise or, at the very least, neutrality.

“Lord Potter, Sirs. I deeply apologize for the interruption, but the child’s vessel has arrived.” Poppy bowed once, completing her missive, and returned to the Abbey.

For a split second, Charlus was in shock, before a wide smile made itself at home on his face. “I believe, if you are all amiable, that we should reconvene at a later date. I have a grandchild to meet.”

Congratulations and nods of agreement were spoken from around the deep mahogany table of the Lady Bones’ meeting chamber and Charlus made his way for the door.

“I shall send my owl, I believe we are far from done.” With that last note, he briskly made his way to the floo, returning home.

Poppy’s next stop was to the Lady Potter.

She found herself popping into Lord Orion’s private study, where the two were settled on a rich velvet couch, facing a crackling fire.

“He is my son, my heir. That will never change.”

“I know, but change is coming and he must be by your side. Away from Walburga’s influence. Please. Take him and Regulus to Ravensmoor Castle. They will be safe there.”

Poppy bowed deeply to Lord Orion and to her Lady.

“Lord Orion, Lady Potter. I have received word the child’s vessel has arrived.” Poppy bowed once more to a silent room and left to return to the Abbey, hoping to restore order after alerting the Heir should he not know.

“Child?” Orion asked softly, taking Dorea’s hand within his.

“My grandchild. Gifted from Mother herself. They are Cherished and Destined. Together we can bring about the proper change to our world. Please consider what I am asking, nephew.” 

“Of course I will. Now go meet your grandchild, they will not find a better grandmother than you.” Dorea blushed faintly before making her way to Orion’s lit fireplace to floo home.

“I understand now. I will make plans. But don’t worry for me, you have a grandchild to spoil.”

“If you nothing of me, it is that I worry for you. Please take care, Orion. Stop by after Mabon, you shall meet your grand godchild if James has anything to say on the matter.” With that Dorea flooed to a home in complete elation. 

James had just finished ushering his best friend and his newly ex-girlfriend to the floo when Poppy met him in the hall.

“The child is here, Heir James. I’ve already contacted Lord and Lady Potter and they are on their way. The elves are gathered with them in the solarium. Come with me.” She offered a small hand which James took, and they were instantly taken to said solarium.

It was a madhouse. He had never seen all the elves in one place, let alone in such a state. There were tears of joy, laughter, and awe as each elf took turns placing a small hand upon a giant clamshell, glittering pink, gold, and silver. The magic in the room was stifling as each elf greeted the newest member of the family.

James found his parents in the madness and stood beside them in shock.

“My child,” he whispered. “Thats my child.”

Dorea wrapped her son in her arms, both their eyes never leaving the shell.

Soon the elves parted like the sea, allowing the small family to walk up to the child’s home until Mabon.

The three of them kneeled facing the opulent shell resting on the white and gold cushion.

“Dearest Little One, you are so loved already. We cannot wait for you to join us. You are so precious, so special. You are our treasure.” Dorea spoke first, her eyes misty as she caressed the shell. It was warm under her hand and pulsed slightly, as if acknowledging her. 

Charlus spoke next, placing his hand on top of his wife’s. 

“Hello, Small one, I’ll be your Grandfather. I cannot wait to bounce you in my lap like I did James. He had the chubbiest cheeks and a smile that brightened our world. I cannot wait for you to do the same. I love you so much already, our miracle baby.” 

James finally placed his hand over his father’s, slightly trembling.

“My Anwylaf. I never thought you’d be brought into my life so soon. I don’t know if I’m yet ready to be a father, but I love you so much. I’ll move the mountains and the sea to keep you safe and happy. You’ll never be alone in this world. I swear.” 

As he finished speaking, it was as if their magic was tied together and lightly suckled by the shell. As a wave of love and understanding was pushed towards them from within, they each began to cry, light tears falling onto the womb and immediately drying. 

After a second, they pulled away, looking at each other. Dorea was the first to dry her eyes and address the still watching elves.

“I believe a toast is to be made to our future grandchild. The vintage  Dom Perignon, I believe.” No sooner had she spoken that a glass of the said champagne appeared in the hand of every elf and the three Potters.

“ Croeso i'r byd, Anwylaf.” 

“Croeso!”

  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> If you might possibly want to stay in touch with me I'm super active on twitter @makofluff !!
> 
> Hope to see you guys soon!


End file.
